


Did You Fall For Me?

by Sweet_garlic



Series: Aziraphale, A Little to the Left [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Blowjobs, M/M, Pining, Religious Symbolism, Sad, Unhealthy - Freeform, basically aziraphale is an angel and crowley is a demon but now aziraphale is the bastard one, because! they! are! IDIOTS!, one-sided, they! are! not! happy!, this! is! an! unhealthy! relationship!, who dont know how to talk about their FEELINGS >:(
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 12:27:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20209726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweet_garlic/pseuds/Sweet_garlic
Summary: Aziraphale is an angel and Crowley is a demon, but Aziraphale is 95% bastard now and is pushing the limits of Heaven and how much he can do before he Falls. Crowley doesn't want to be punished by Hell for consorting with an angel, but he really doesn't want Aziraphale to Fall... what's a demon to do when Aziraphale decides he wants to try out Lust?





	Did You Fall For Me?

**Author's Note:**

> This whole thing is inspired by [this](https://crowleys--angel.tumblr.com/post/186803853178/fuckin-smiling-like-a-snake-just-had-to-show-me) tumblr post. And thanks [brilliantlyordinary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brilliantlyordinary/pseuds/brilliantlyordinary) for beta-ing and encouraging me!!!

They were lying on the couch in Aziraphale’s bookshop, drunk. Crowley had sprawled back hours ago, his right leg kicked out to hang askew off the side of the couch, and Aziraphale had eventually decided that he needed to be on top of him.

Crowley was still sipping his wine, but Aziraphale had abandoned his goblet long ago, preferring to run heavy hands over the planes of Crowley’s chest. He was giggling, staring dutifully into yellow eyes as Crowley squawked about something or other.

Crowley quieted after a bit, becoming more and more aware of Aziraphale’s petting, trying to keep his breath from hitching as Aziraphale rubbed a socked foot over the demon’s ankle.

They’d been here before, was the problem. Aziraphale, so willing to push the boundaries, daring God over and over again to make him Fall, and Crowley, desperate to keep in line with Hell and avoid whatever punishments they would apply to a demon fraternizing with an angel. Sometimes, Crowley forgot who was the tempter and who was the temptee when Aziraphale got like this.

“I’m too drunk for this,” Crowley muttered to himself, too softly for Aziraphale to have heard him had the angel not been pressing barely-there kisses against the line of Crowley’s neck.

“Then sober up,” Aziraphale growled in response, moving to puff his breath against Crowley’s ear.

Crowley dragged his attention away from Aziraphale to purge the wine his body, tensing his muscles as the bottle was filled again. If it weren’t for the rotten taste in his mouth, he wouldn’t have known he was meant to be sober - Aziraphale’s mouth so near his made something deep in his belly burn more than any drink could.

But he _couldn’t_. He _couldn’t_ kiss Aziraphale, couldn’t drag him closer, couldn’t feel the angel’s hot skin pressed against his own. Crowley would undoubtedly be tortured for something like that, and-

“You’ll Fall,” Crowley gasped against Aziraphale’s lips, trying and failing to restate that age-old argument with the angel in his breathing space.

“Please - what they don’t know won’t hurt them, eh?” Aziraphale said, scraping his stubble against Crowley’s sharp jawline.

“She’s - ah! - She’s _God_, She knows everything!” Crowley whined. Since when had his legs been wrapped around Aziraphale’s waist?

Aziraphale growled at the mention of God. “If She was going to have a problem with _this_,” he ground his hips against Crowley’s, “then She would’ve had me Fall a long time ago.”

And how could Crowley argue with that logic, especially when Aziraphale’s hands were burying themselves in his hair, his belly - _hot, heavy, thick_ \- was grinding itself against Crowley’s aching cock? How could Crowley argue with anything Aziraphale said when he would do anything his angel asked?

“Kiss me,” Aziraphale whispered, and Crowley was gone.

He couldn’t hold back the groan that ripped its way out of his throat as Aziraphale’s tongue made itself at home in Crowley’s mouth. Sharp nails scrabbled at the back of Aziraphale’s waistcoat, lean hips canting up while Aziraphale tugged at Crowley’s fiery hair.

“My demon,” Aziraphale muttered between wet kisses, “my beautiful Fallen angel, my delicious _sin_.”

Crowley whined and let his head fall back as Aziraphale worked his wicked way down Crowley’s throat. He took a pit stop at the hollow in Crowley’s collarbone, sucking a mark that could easily be miracled away, or just as easily miracled to stay for a few days longer than usual.

Crowley could feel Aziraphale’s thick cock grinding into his ass, and he knew — oh, to feel full, to feel his angel _pushing_ inside, _taking_, _fucking_ holiness into him until he couldn’t remember his own sigil — he knew where this would go, knew Aziraphale would keep kissing down his chest until they were both stripped and—

And Aziraphale would Fall, wouldn’t he? To violate a demon would be an act of Lust, one of those Deadly Sins that Aziraphale found it so entertaining to flirt with. And to let him would be a physical act of Love, the one thing demons could never show.

So Crowley shoved Aziraphale off of him, panting, wishing he could pull him closer but knowing that destruction awaited both of them if this continued.

Aziraphale was breathing heavy, his face was flushed under the stubble, dirty blonde hair falling out of its loose ponytail. His blue eyes were wide, full of - fear? regret?

“Right,” the angel said, trying to get his bearings, “so sorry. I didn’t- I didn’t mean to push—”

Crowley nearly laughed at that. Of course Aziraphale had meant to push, that’s what he did. He pushed what was acceptable, dared God to make him Fall, and Crowley went along, heels dug in, trying to protect his _stupid, reckless_ angel as much as he could.

“If you didn’t want this, all you needed to do was say so,” Aziraphale whispered, his eyes full of repentance and angelic, divine, innocent love, and Crowley could’ve forgotten the angel had just been giving him the dirtiest snog he’d experienced in 6000 years.

And blame it on him being a demon, but Crowley couldn’t resist temptation. He didn’t want his angel to look sad, to think that he had somehow done something wrong.

“I just needed to catch my breath,” Crowley lied through his teeth. Aziraphale gave him a soft, relieved smile, and moved in slowly, slotting himself carefully between Crowley’s spread legs.

A chaste kiss. Crowley’s eyelids fluttered.

“I’m not going too fast for you, am I?” Aziraphale breathed against Crowley’s lips, staring into yellow eyes for confirmation.

Crowley grabbed Aziraphale’s face, smashing their mouths together with a groan that started in his throat and ended deep in Aziraphale’s. Aziraphale bucked his hips against Crowley’s, hands clutching the demon’s heaving chest close to his.

Crowley didn’t let Aziraphale leave his mouth. He wanted the angel to ravage him, to bite his lips and occupy him so that Crowley’s traitorous mouth couldn’t say the words that were so dangerously close to bubbling up: _I love you_.

It wasn’t long until Crowley thought up other ways to occupy his mouth.

Slender hands pushed Aziraphale back again, who retreated with a gasp and “Is everything okay?” which was returned with “Yes, yes, angel, just -- let’s switch, yeah?” followed by endless kisses against Aziraphale’s throat.

The angel groaned, shifting onto his back and pulling Crowley atop his lap. Now Aziraphale was bucking up into Crowley, and it took everything Crowley had not to snap his fingers and whisk their clothes away so he could ride his angel. Aziraphale knew that, too, and grinned far more devilishly than he should have been able to as he grabbed Crowley’s bony hips and rolled their pelvises together. Crowley couldn’t help throwing his head back and crying out, dangerously close to a sob.

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale sighed, watching the demon writhe on his lap. “You’re so pretty like that, aren’t you? Sitting on my dick, I’m sure you’d be even lovelier.”

Crowley whined at the lecherous words. “Shut up,” he gasped, diving down to press his lips to a stubbled neck. He pulled desperately at Aziraphale’s shirt buttons as two heavy hands grabbed his ass, giving a light smack that made Crowley gasp and rock forward. He heard Aziraphale chuckle as he gave up on the buttons and instead shuffled down to try his luck with the belt.

One would think that an angel so desperate to rebel against the Heavens would show off his body more - but no, Crowley had to shove aside three layers of shirts just to get to the top of Aziraphale’s pants. He kissed the bottom of Aziraphale’s thick, hairy tummy as it was revealed to him, glaring up at his angel, who merely smiled and winked.

Ridiculous. And Crowley was _in love with him_.

It made him want to cry for real, that thought, and he hid his face by nuzzling the crease of Aziraphale’s thigh. His tongue flicked out and he lapped up the sweat that had gathered there - it tasted like milk and honey and salt. He would have existed there forever if he could, breathing in his angel’s musk and drinking the nectar of his thighs.

But Aziraphale wanted more, because of course he did. His stubby fingers tangled in Crowley’s hair, trying to nudge him towards the angel’s thick cock, pressing up against soft cotton underwear and leaving a wet spot in the fabric. Crowley pressed the flat of his tongue to the underside and flushed at the desperate hiss Aziraphale released at that.

The cotton dried his mouth out, but Crowley didn’t want to have to move away from Aziraphale’s dick and pull it away. Hesitantly, Crowley wrapped his lips around the head, meeting Aziraphale’s eyes through his thick lashes. Without breaking eye contact, he began to sink down, moaning at the bitter-salty taste of Aziraphale’s precum through the fabric. And yes, Aziraphale’s cock was thick and would’ve filled Crowley’s mouth anyways, but the extra layer of fabric caused it to practically choke him as he sucked on Aziraphale’s length. The angel’s hips twitched, trying not to fuck into Crowley’s mouth.

“Come on, Crowley,” Aziraphale grunted, breathing heavy at the feeling of Crowley’s mouth around his dick. His grip on Crowley’s hair was almost painfully tight, and he had to pull hard to get him off. Crowley whined and ground against the couch at the feeling.

“Pants,” Aziraphale said, and pushed his underwear down. He could only get it so low, because as soon as his cock was able to bob up, Crowley was on it. Aziraphale couldn’t help but buck up into his mouth, and Crowley moaned around him. Aziraphale was transfixed by the sight - his Crowley, drooling on his cock, sucking and bobbing and moaning, his mouth _stuffed_ full. A blush flared beautifully around the demon’s high cheekbones when he gagged around Aziraphale, the angel’s dick hitting the back of his mouth.

“You don’t need a gag reflex, darling,” Aziraphale said, and Crowley groaned at the affectionate term, diving down and choking himself again. Then it hit Aziraphale.

“Oh, you don’t _need_ one, but you want one, don’t you?” he drawled, Crowley meeting his eyes guiltily. “Nhf, you just want to choke on my cock, don’t you? Want to feel it until you can’t talk?” He shoved Crowley down by the hair, and Crowley whined, tears in his eyes. 

Aziraphale threw his head back, grinding into Crowley’s hot wet heat. “I’d still love to fuck you, darling,” he murmured, petting Crowley more gently. “Play with your tight little ass, maybe, or would you Effort a pussy for me? Oh, you’d be soaking, wouldn’t you - let me drive into that sopping wet cunt, play with your clit, _fuck_ you, oh, oh, Crowley, oh _darling_\--”

Aziraphale broke off with a moan, holding Crowley down as he came into his mouth, Crowley practically sobbing as spunk and spit spilled out of his mouth and down the angel’s cock. He looked absolutely debauched, that blush painting his entire face, his eyes half-lidded, his hair a mess. Aziraphale’s softening cock would’ve hardened in an instant again if he had let it.

“You were so good, my darling,” he said, petting Crowley’s jaw. Crowley whined and nuzzled against his hand for a moment before crawling back up and collapsing against his angel.

“Let me return the favor,” Aziraphale murmured into Crowley’s ear, one hand moving down to fondle Crowley’s ass--

“No.” Crowley pushed himself up, voice sore, still looking a right mess, his cock still hard in his jeans. Aziraphale stared up, his eyes growing sad.

“Come dear, look at you,” Aziraphale said, sparing a glance down to Crowley’s -- well, Crowley’s nothing, now. Aziraphale pouted. “Is it so hard to keep making an Effort?”

Crowley laughed at that. “Believe me,” he said, then seemed to reconsider. _It’s harder to_ not _make an Effort around you_.

Aziraphale sighed, and Crowley consented to a final kiss before pushing himself up. It was all he would allow for himself -- he was a demon, after all, and could only resist so much temptation.

**Author's Note:**

> Aziraphale is a $120,000 hooker and Crowley is the idiot who fell in love with him.


End file.
